Us Against the World
by ginnysmonkey
Summary: A series of one-shots focusing on the Quintana FRIENDSHIP throughout Season 2. Mentions of Brittana. Rating is for language&adult themes  it is Santana, after all . Please review so I know if I should continue or not. Title taken from the song by Play.
1. Chapter 1

AN: Let me start by saying: Brittana=OTP. But, I find Quinn and Santana's friendship fascinating. Quinn and Santana are both character's that haven't really been explored on the show. For reference, in this collection of one shots, the Lucy thing? Never happened.

Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any of the characters therein. Sad day for me.

One-Shot #1: Takes Place after Season 2, Episode One "Audition"

I Could Never Hate You

Santana sat on the curb, freezing her ass off and forcing herself to pretend like she didn't care. She pretended not to notice the sound of a car pulling up and stopping, or the thunk of a person settling in next to her. She couldn't help but voice her protest though when said person reached out, took her cigarette, and threw it on the ground. "Fuck Fabray, what the hell did you do that for?"

"Saving you, and me, from getting cancer," Quinn answered back easily, pulling her coat closer around her. "Your dad's a doctor, shouldn't you know this already?"

"Step dad," Santana corrected bitterly, pulling out another cig and her lighter. "Want a light? One every once and a while won't kill you. Besides, I'm going to be smoking anyway, so you might as well."

Quinn hesitated for a moment before shrugging and accepting the cigarette offered to her. For a few moments, silence engulfed the two girls, the only sound being their exhales after a long drag. Finally, Quinn broke the silence, "Why did you call me?"

Santana stalled for a few minutes, taking a long drag from her ciggie (she preferred cigars, but she didn't exactly have the money to be buying cubans). Eventually, Santana replied out with a low mutter, "Didn't know who else to call."

"You could've called Brittany," Quinn easily replied, staring off into the distance and not the girl next to her. Santana chanced a glance at her, hearing the unspoken agreement that she didn't exactly have people lining up to pick her up at 2 in the morning.

"No I couldn't," Santana muttered, returning her glance to the street lamp across the street.

"Are you guys fighting or something?" Quinn questioned, brow furrowed slightly as she thought. A Santana without a Brittany was just...wrong. When only silence met her inquery, Quinn dropped the topic, knowing Santana would talk when she was ready. For 20 minutes, they sat together, pretending the cold didn't bother them as they smoked.

"Look...I'm sorry I was a bitch to you earlier this week. I was just...angry. All that hard work...for nothing. It was my own fault though... threw it away for my "summer surgery". I shouldn't have brought up Beth," Santana quietly spoke. Quinn's eyes widened slightly as she took in what the Latina said. Santana almost never apologized. Even with the niceness of the apology, Quinn couldn't help but feel her heart break slightly at the mention of her daughter's name. She had spent all summer rebuilding herself, pretending that it didn't hurt every day to be away from her baby girl.

"I still can't believe you did that." Pausing for a moment, Quinn tried to collect her thoughts in regards to the person she used to believe was one of her closest friends. "I thought something about us had finally broken...I thought you hated me," Quinn admitted, keeping her voice emotionless and indifferent.

Santana sighed, "I don't think I could ever actually hate you, Q. We have our ups and downs. Last year..." Santana trailed off, allowing them both to remember what a bitch she had been to Quinn during her pregnancy.

"Well, I mean, in your defense, I did sleep with your boyfriend. And I would have done the same thing. Plus after what happened in freshmen year..." Quinn trailed off, feeling the girl next to her tense. She had gone too far. "I know your sensitive about...that stuff."

Silence once again became the girls' company, filling up the void that the conversation had left. Ever the leader, Quinn was the first to break the silence. "What happened to us? I mean, we've always had our fights but beneath all of that...we used to be friends." Receiving no response,she continued. "S...I want to be friends again."

Santana took a deep, shuttering breath before breathing out, "Me too, Q." She didn't mean to, but her voice broke, betraying the emotions she was keeping under lock. Trying to pretend she hadn't just been emotional, she chuckled out, "That doesn't mean I'm not pissed about being at the bottom of the pyramid. I mean, really Quinn? Also, this whole we're-frenemies-leaning-towards-enemies thing will continue at school. I didn't spend all of last year being a bitch to people for nothing. Got it?"

Quinn couldn't help the smirk that came to her lips. "Got it, bitch."

"Thanks whore." Yeah, ok, so maybe their friendship wasn't the most conventional, but they had been friends since sixth grade when their equal amounts of respect and hunger for power threw the two of them at the top of the social hierarchy. A place which they continued to fight for over their entire friendship.

"So...remind me again why I have the _pleasure _of picking you up instead of sleeping?" Quinn spat out sarcastically. During the entire conversation they did not make eye contact. Heart to hearts weren't exactly their forte.

"Like I said, I didn't know who else to call. I didn't want to call Britt in the middle of the night...not for this. She'd worry too much," Santana replied. It was then that Quinn noticed the bruises and a red mark marring on her friend's face, barely visible in the dull lighting of the street lamp. Sights that were unfortunately a common occurence that were never, ever spoken of.

Unable to think of how to respond to that, the closest Santana had ever come to talking about it with her, she asked, "Where's your car?"

"Mom took it 'cause her car's in the shop," Santana muttered, not angrily, more...sadly.

"Well...come on," Quinn commanded, snubbing out her cigarette and getting to her feet. She offered her hand to Santana (which the darker girl promptly refused) and pretended not to notice her wincing as she got to her feet. "I'm surprised you're not drunk." Quinn blurted out, immediately flushing. While it's true she was wondering why her friend wasn't intoxicated, she hadn't meant to just put it out there.

Santana chuckled bitterly. "Well fuck Q, I never expected you to be promoting drinking your sorrows away."

"I wasn't...I don't...I was just surprised is all," Quinn managed to stutter out, silently cursing Santana for making her lose her confidence. "Usually when I have to pick up you, I have to half carry your drunken ass and listen to you cry. Shit, I would never think drinking is a good solution. You've met my parents right?" The last comment Quinn said, she spat out. She would never forgive her parents entirely. She just...couldn't.

Santana smirked slightly. Getting Quinn to curse was not an easy task. "Well Q, as much as I have loved this talk, can you open up your car? I'm freezing my ass off. And my ass is too hot to lose." Quinn rolled her eyes, but unlocked her car, both girls' throwing themselves in. Putting her keys in the ignition, Quinn cranked up the heat. Both cheerleaders let out a sigh of relief when the cold disappated and they were immersed in warmth. Quinn pulled away from her parking spot and drove away from Santana's street; chancing a glance back at the brunette's house that appeared so normal from the outside.

"So...where to Satan?" Quinn quipped, looking quickly at her silent companion who stayed looking out the window. Santana bit her lip as she thought, but as always her thoughts were only of...

"Brittany." She spoke, not even really aware of it. Quinn nodded; she knew about them, okay? And, contrary to what Santana would say if she knew Quinn knew, she didn't care. Her religion wasn't too thrilled with gay people, sure, but that didn't mean Quinn wouldn't accept them. She saw how Santana looked at Brittany when she thought no one was looking; she had witnessed whispered exchanges that were too precious to ever be considered disgusting. Maybe she should just tell Santana she accepts her? Nah, San would freak if she thought she knew.

The car ride was silent, both girls lost in their own thoughts. Santana was surprised when they pulled up in front of Brittany's house. She put her hand on the door handle, the thought of Brittany making her stomach flip and making her want to be up there already. "San..." Quinn murmered. Santana turned and looked Quinn in the eye for the first time all night. Quinn saw the hurt and emptiness is Santana's; Santana saw the caring in Quinn's.

Not one to be too caught up in emotions (at least, when it didn't involve a certain blonde hair, blue eyed dancer), Santana rolled her eyes. "Yeah, me too you big softie. Now go and get your beauty sleep. You need it." She smirked slightly and gave the blonde girl a wink before climbing out. Quinn couldn't help but laugh as she watched her friend climb a tree before safely entering what she knew to be Brittany's bedroom. Shaking her head, Quinn began to drive home.

The next day, to everyone else, nothing had changed between their resident HBIC and her former second in command. They didn't notice the soft smile on Quinn's face when she saw Brittany and Santana talking by their lockers, or the smirk and wink Santana shot Quinn before changing her smirk into a scowl. And only Brittany noticed with a happy smile when the two cheerleaders sat next to each other in Glee without uttering a word to one another.


	2. Chapter 2

AN: Let me start by saying: Brittana=OTP. But, I find Quinn and Santana's friendship fascinating. Quinn and Santana are both character's that haven't really been explored on the show. For reference, in this collection of one shots, the Lucy thing? Never happened. So, this one is a little shorter, sorry about that. Goods news? The next one is longer and much more heavy. Brittany/Britney, although very funny, had very little character development which gives me very little to work with so...here it goes. Review it if you like it (THANK YOU TO THE TWO READERS WHO REVIEWED LAST CHAPTER), and well...enjoy :).

Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any of the characters therein. Sad day for me.

One-Shot #2: Season 2, Episode Two "Brittany/Britney"

It's Quinn...Bitch.

"So...did you and Britt really share a fantasy?" Quinn began without prompting, settling down next to Santana in the choir room. Besides them, and Brad (but he was practically furniture), the room was empty. It was before school on a Friday, far before anyone else would show up. Quinn was only there because she forgot her history book at school and needed it for homework.

"Maybe, what's it to you?" Santana replied keeping her gaze fixated on the whiteboard.

Quinn rolled her eyes and pretended that her friend hadn't just been rude to her. "What're you doing here so early?"

"Jesus. Why the hell do you care, Q?" Santana huffed out, crossing her arms protectively over her chest. She was definitely not in the mood to talk. Between her home life (if you could call it that) and her dream last night that took their Britney fantasy to the next level, Santana was not a happy camper.

Quinn narrowed her eyes and crossed her own arms. "Fine S, play it like that. Talking to you right now is obviously a waste of both of our time."

"Yup, got that right Barbie." Santana spat out, obviously in a foul mood and willing to spit her venom at anyone within range. Quinn had no clue what was wrong with her friend, but something was obviously putting the darker girl in a funk.

"It's Quinn...bitch." Quinn replied with a straight face. Santana couldn't help the smile that came to her face, or the laughter that followed. Quinn started laughing as well, a snort escaping before she could suppress it.

Santana shook her head, a small smile remaining on her face. "You know, deciding to do Britney with us was just wrong. Like, us doing Britney? Hot. ? So not."

"Please, you just think Britt doing Britney is hot," Quinn retorted, meaning for it all to be in good fun just like their usual horrible banter. Wrong move. Santana immediately stiffened and her face dropped into an expressionless mask. Crap.

Santana stood up and grabbed her bag before turning to Quinn, mouth open to speak. Bringing up Brittany was not what she needed right now. God dammit, she had just gotten in a slightly better mood! Quinn had to go and ruin it, even if it was unintentional. Just then Rachel walked into the room, a shocked expression coming over her face before turning into a big smile, "Why hello fellow glee clubbers, I must say that I'm surprised by..."

"Shut up dwarf," Santana all but growled before turning back to Quinn. "Can you tell B that I don't have my car today because my mom still has it? I even had to get dropped off early before her 'work'." Santana ordered. She turned to walk out, but then turning back around, "And Q...," She hesitated for a moment before finding the words for what she wanted to say were escaping her,"...nevermind." She ended quickly before leaving. Quinn understood though; Brittany was obviously a sensitive topic for the brunette.

"What was that all about?" Rachel asked, her brow furrowed as she looked at the remaining cheerleader for answers.

"Nothing Rachel, nothing at all," Quinn replied, thoughts still on Santana.

"Well, in that case perhaps we could discuss..."

"Actually man-hands, I've gotta run. I've got homework to do. Bye."


	3. Chapter 3

AN: First off, thank you to everyone who has read this story (I hope you enjoyed reading it as well!). Second, things have been crazy on my end, so I apologize about the slow updating. I will probably always be slow at updating (my school load is HORRIBLE). Anyway, enjoy, review, and give me feedback please. Oh, and how many of you can guess what "the thing in freshman year" was? This is the second time I'm mentioning it.

Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any of the characters therein. Sad day for me.

One-Shot #3: Season 2, Episode Three "Grilled Cheesus"

Some Things Never Change

Santana sat in the car, radio playing quietly as she eyed the doors to the hospital. Quinn so fucking owed her. She knew how much Santana hated hospitals. *Well, speak of the devil. And people call ME Satan,* she mused, watching as Quinn exited the building and looked around before spotting Santana's car. The blonde hurried over before opening the door and slamming into the seat. "Jeez S, can you crank up the heat? It's *freezing* in the hospital."

Rolling her eyes, Santana began to drive before she replied, "You're lucky I picked up your skinny white ass. Now tell me, why the hell was I picking you up from the hospital?" Santana took her eyes off the road for a second as she observed her friend. "You're not like sick or something are you? Or were you just popping out another bastard child?"

"Wow San, I'm so glad to see you care about me," Quinn spat back sarcastically. "You really are the best friend a girl could ever ask for."

Santana clenched her jaw momentarily before asking, "Seriously Q, why were you there?" Quinn glanced at Santana and couldn't help but kind of feel happy, despite the circumstances. Santana actually cared.

"I was praying for ," Quinn replied as she began to stare absent-mindedly out the window. "Kurt was all mad and kicked us out, even though we were just trying to help. I got a ride there with Mercedes and Rachel and well...I don't think I could stand another car ride listening to those two talk about showtunes." Quinn shook her head at the memory, displeased with how that car ride had turned out. Why she had ever thought being in a confined space with both Mercedes and Rachel was a good idea was beyond her. She should have just brought her own car.

For several minutes the car remained silent. Slowly, Santana began to speak, "You believe in God...don't you Q?"

Quinn pursed her lips slightly before nodding. "Yeah...don't you S?"

"I don't..." Santana began before sighing. Hesitantly she continued, "I don't know what to believe anymore."

Quinn stared out the window, eyebrows furrowed as she tried to figure out how to respond to that. "Well...why's that?"

Santana remained silent, but Quinn watched as a myriad of emotions passed over her face. Santana once again clenched her jaw because of the amount of emotions and words she wanted to spit out. How could a God let her father leave her? How could a God let her step-father hurt her? How could a God make her be attracted to girls? All of these were things she would never ever share with Quinn. "Lots of reasons...like what happened in freshmen year...and stuff..." Santana answered slowly, wondering if Quinn would buy that as everything.

Quinn frowned slightly, entirely unconvinced, but nodded. She hesitated for a moment before murmuring, "My faith in God isn't always that strong...there were times last year where I gave up my belief in entirety. But then...there were other times when my faith was the only thing that kept me going."

Santana was silent for a moment, taking in what Quinn had said before quietly asking, "Why does life have to be so hard?"

Chewing on her bottom lip, Quinn stared at her friend, trying to read her mind. Unfortunately, her psychic skills had yet to develop and instead she was left with a blank faced Santana, trying to figure out if she was simply questioning or was actually depressed. "Well...what does not kill us makes us stronger, right?"

Santana let out a hollow laugh before uttering, "Do you actually believe that Q?"

"No," Quinn scoffed. "I think it's bullshit that people tell other people to make them feel better when life gets hard. Life is shitty sometimes, that's just the way that is. But it's worth it."

Santana felt tears come to her eyes and blinked them back. Fuck no was she crying. Clearing her throat to make her voice less shaky, she asked, "You really think it's worth it?"

Quinn took a deep shaky breath of her own. "When you stare down at your baby...it's worth it, S. I promise you that." She too was close to tears, but just like her darker skinned companion, she wasn't about to show it. "I know we're not like, touchy feel-y friends or whatever San but...I've got your back. If life gets too hard, well...just give me a call. Lean on me and all that cliche' junk."

Santana actually chuckled at that, feeling a slight weight come off her chest at Quinn's words. Would she ever actually talk about her personal shit with Quinn? Oh hell no. But was it nice to know someone besides her beautiful dancing companion was there for her? Yeah. "You know Fabray, you're not nearly as much of a stuck up bitch as you like to pretend to be."

Quinn rolled her eyes and allowed a small smile to cross her lips. "Yeah well. Lopez, you're not nearly as much of a cold hearted shrew as you like to pretend to be."

The rest of the car ride passed with only the soft noise of music playing filling the car with sound. Both girls were spent. Their conversation today had been far too deep and feeling-filled for their comfort zones. As Santana pulled up outside the Fabray house, she shot Quinn a small smile. "See you at school whore. Might wanna hit the gym, 'cause I think I see some of that baby fat making a second appearance."

Quinn rolled her eyes and scoffed as she got out. They both knew that she had lost the baby fat during the summer. She couldn't just let the Latina get away with what she said. "See you tomorrow...at the bottom of the pyramid. I hope it doesn't collapse; I'd hate for your grapes to pop." Some things never changed.


	4. Chapter 4

AN: Hey guys, long time, no update, I know. I'm sorry. Things have been crazy on my end, and this episode was incredibly hard for me to figure out how to write since it actually had Brittana in it. Plus, the creators of Glee have ruined Quinn's character on the show pretty much, which is unfortunate. Especially when trying to pull inspiration for this. Nothing from Season 3 is relevant for this fic, by the way. Anyway, enjoy and review. I apologize once again for the slow updating.

Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any of the characters therein. Sad day for me.

One-Shot #4: Season 2, Episode Four "Duets"

I Am Not Gay

Santana stalked up to her car, anger clearly written on her face. This week had sucked so hard core, she wanted nothing more than to go home and work out until she collapsed in a heap of exhaustion. Okay, so maybe Coach's methods had warped her, but whatever. Her rocking bod was an excellent result. Unfortunately, an annoyingly confident blonde was leaning against her door. "Move bitch," Santana growled, so not in the mood to deal with Quinn today.

Quinn simply smirked and shook her head. Did Santana honestly think she could intimidate her? Please. "Look, I don't know what exactly is pissing you off today, but I bet it has something to do with why Brit is walking around like a lost puppy. What did you do this time?"

Santana narrowed her eyes at her 'friend'. She had no fucking right what-so-ever to talk to her like this. She reached out and grabbed her arm before hissing, "I asked you to move. Make me ask you one more time and I'm about to go all Lima Heights on your ass."

"S," Quinn glared, but stood her ground none-the-less, ", first off, your step-dad is a doctor, YOU DON'T LIVE IN A GHETTO; second, what the hell is wrong with you?"

"What hell is wrong with me? What the hell is wrong with ME?" Santana all but screamed, her eyes near glowing with anger. She clenched her jaw and glared at her current head Cheerio. Finally she hissed out, "Look, just get the fuck out of my way and we won't have a problem. Comprendes?" She hadn't meant to slip into Spanish but whatever; it just made her point more clear.

It was Quinn's turn to narrow her eyes at her 'friend' and she replied, "Well, I guess we're going to have a problem then. Seriously S, what's going on with you? You're being even more of a bitch then usual. And that's saying something." The two held each other's eyes for a couple of minutes, neither backing down.

Finally, Santana lowered her glare, a scowl marring her otherwise beautiful face. Fucking Quinn. She couldn't just let it go. "Look, Q, can you move so I can get the hell out of here?"

"Look, S, I'm going to give you two options: One, we get in your car, drive around, and talk. Two, we don't talk and I talk to Brit. And then call your mom. Your choice." Ok, so Quinn was bluffing on the whole "mom" part. She wouldn't actually call, but the intimidation factor was needed in this case. She needed to kick Santana's ass into gear.

Santana literally growled. Dammit, Quinn wasn't playing by the rules. "Fine then, have it your way. Get in. I don't guarentee you'll make it back in one piece though Fabray."

When Quinn didn't move and instead studied the Latina's face intently, Santana huffed, "Get in the fucking car. Ahora." Quinn moved out of the way and instead walked around to the passenger seat and threw herself in. Something about the darker girl was wrong, and Quinn was determined to get to the bottom of it. Once Santana got in, she immediately turned on the car, cranked up the radio, and zoomed out of the parking lot. Screw school.

Aside from the music blasting in the background, the car was silent. Santana wasn't in a real hurry to talk with Quinn, so she was entirely okay with this no-talking-for-now policy that seemed to descend on the car. Of course, Quinn had to go and ruin that. "So...your bitchiness this week was off the chart. I mean, I liked your duet with Mercedes but that was about the only positive outcome. You made three fellow Cheerios cry. And that was just today!"

"Yeah, well, they had it coming," Santana mumbled before speaking in a louder voice, "Speaking of duets, I'm horrified to see that you and Ken are now a thing. Your babies are going to be super blonde with ridiculously large mouths. I mean, the only benefit of a super large mouth is I bet he can go super deep..."

"Santana, shut up," Quinn huffed. "I've had sex once. Once! I don't plan on doing it again any time soon. Besides, SAM and I are taking it slow."

"Oral isn't always considered 'sex'...it's just like licking an ice cream cone. Only you know, harder and way tastier." Santana remarked absentmindedly, purposely trying to make Quinn uncomfortable.

Quinn raised a single eyebrow and grimaced. "Yeah well, I consider it sex. Wait...is that why you're being such a bitch? Are you not getting any?"

Santana scowled, "One, I don't ever want to hear you use the phrase 'getting any' ever again. Two, my sex life is none of your business Fabray. I mean, I know I'm the hottest piece of action at this school, but that doesn't mean everyone can be all up in my business."

Frowning, Quinn refrained from replying that Santana only brought up her failure of a sex life, oh, every conversation they have. She knew that something was up with Santana, something that had to do with Brittany, but she knew that the brunette was particularly sensitive about that topic. And Quinn wouldn't put it past Santana to dump her in some hick-town with no way home. Slowly she broached the Britt topic, "So...what was up with Artie and Brittany? I mean, that was weird, huh?"

Santana immediately stiffened and kept her eyes on the road. "Definitely weird." Quinn made a mental checklist of Santana's behavior: avoidance of the topic, check.

"I heard they're done now though. Something about her sleeping with him?" Quinn prodded, knowing she was probably pushing the Latina to her emotional limit.

Santana scowled. Angry reaction to Artie, which strongly resembles jealousy in Quinn's opinion; check. "He's upset because she slept with him. PLEASE. He should be thanking God to have been even allowed to have sex with Brit. If anyone should be regreting that union, it should be B. He's being a fucking cry baby. I mean, fuck, it's not like she forced him to have sex with her. It was just as much his decision as it was hers. Hijo de una puta." Santana finished her rant with a hiss, furious for allowing herself get so worked up and talk so much. Quinn smirked slightly, recognizing the spanish cuss word after having been Santana's friend for so long.

Quinn finally decided that enough was enough. "Santana, it's time for real talk. Ready? You need to figure yourself out. You need to calm down and stop being a bitch to everyone because you don't want to deal with your feelings." The car slammed to a stopped in the middle of the road (something the girls weren't particularly concerned about due to the lack of other cars) and Quinn couldn't hide her wince, knowing she had crossed the line but also knowing the necessity of it.

Santana clenched her jaw and said nothing. Quinn didn't think it was possible for the Latina's body to tense more, but it did, and the silence began to freak her out. A bitchy Santana, she could handle. But a silent one? She had no clue what to do now that she had pulled the ring out of the grenade. "Santana... she's not just a warm body to you, and you know it."

"Get out," Santana hissed, her eyes still focused out the windshield. When Quinn made no indications of moving, Santana turned her head and glared at her with something so closely resembling hate, Quinn had to force herself not to back down. "I said, GET OUT! Get the fuck out of my car! I am NOT GAY."

"I never said you were..." Quinn began slowly, but was interrupted by Santana.

"Get. Out." Quinn looked at Santana for a split second, as if asking Really?, but when she got no response she slowly opened the door and slid out. Santana sped away the moment Quinn closed the door and forced herself not to look back, knowing that she had successfully managed to screw up the only two friendships she really had in the past week.

Quinn sighed, torn between being pissed at Santana and feeling sorry for her. Once she managed to figure out where the heck Santana had driven her to, she pulled out her phone and began scrolling through her contacts, trying to decide who she could ask to pick her up. As she did, it suddenly hit her that the hate in Santana's eyes wasn't meant for her. It was meant for Santana herself.


	5. Chapter 5

AN: Hello readers, I'm sorry it's been so long for an update. School is taking up my entire life. But, here is the latest! Nothing from Season 3 is relevant for this fic, by the way. Anyway, enjoy and review. I apologize once again for the slow updating.

Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any of the characters therein. Sad day for me.

One-Shot #5: Season 2, Episode Five "The Rocky Horror Glee Show"

Pretend Like We Used To

"So...when do you want to practice?"

Santana looked up from her locker to lock onto the very guarded eyes of one Quinn Fabray. Due to the horrendous idea of their glee teacher (because in what world is doing Rocky Horror as the school musical okay?), the two girls had been double-casted as Magenta. Which, unbeknowenst to most, was Santana's favorite character in the movie. So Santana wasn't that upset that Mr. Shuester had suggested practicing with their doubles, until she realized that her double was the girl she hadn't spoken to since the train wreck that was their duets assignment. She had just been hoping to ignore the teacher's instructions as she usually did, but apparently Quinn had other ideas. "Really?"

Quinn raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow and quipped, "Well, unless you want to go up there unrehearsed. I for one would rather practice, even though you and I both know that you have all of our lines already memorized."

"I left you on the side of the road...shouldn't you be more pissed than this?" Santana asked hesitantly, scrunching her brows. This was too good to be true. Quinn was not one to forgive grudges so easily.

Rolling her eyes, Quinn let out a huff as she struggled to answer the Latina. Should she be more pissed? Hell yes. Mercedes was still asking her why she had been out there that night, as she had offered no explanation when begging to be picked up. But was she? Not really. She was just so...tired. Tired of keeping up her popular front, tired of Sam's body issues...just tired. Besides, Santana already hated herself. She didn't need more people to do so as well. "Do you want me to be pissed off at you?"

Santana frowned, her eyebrows scrunching as she did so. Was this a trick question? "Who are you and what have you done to Quinn?"

"Look, we've done some pretty messed up stuff to each other in the past. This is me giving you a free pass, just this once. Why are you questioning it?" Quinn asked, frustration getting the best of her.

Not being one to look a gift horse in the mouth, Santana shrugged. "So...practicing?"

"Yup. I mean, you know the movie really well, but I don't. So I think it'd be nice if we practiced before rehearsal. I was thinking my house after school?"

"Sure, I guess. I mean, I'll have to ask. After glee?"

"Yep. Do you need a ride?" Quinn asked, trying to remember if Santana had her car back or not.

"Nah, I have my car now." Santana responded, closing her locker swiftly once she finally finished fishing through it. Suddenly finding herself without something to look at instead of the blonde next to her, she felt the awkwardness hover in the air. "I'll see you in glee then." With a quick nod, Santana briskly turned and walked away.

Frowning, Quinn mumbled, "Sure. Fine. Whatever. It's not like we were in a conversation or anything."

Quinn had been at her house for approximately ten minutes, and Santana had yet to arrive. Which was weird, considering they left McKinley at the same time, but that was Santana for you. She never did quite what you expected. Or, maybe her problem was that she did _precisely_ what was expected: dressing scantily, arriving late, going to parties, and dating (male) jocks. Quinn had just pulled her hair loose from her pony, which had been so high and immaculate that it was actually giving her a headache, when the doorbell rang, signaling Santana's arrival.

Quinn pulled open the door to reveal Santana, arms crossed over her cheer uniform and looking decidedly uncomfortable. "Hey San, come on in." She moved back and once Santana stepped in, began walking back into the living room. Santana froze in the entry way though, warily eying the interior of the house.

"Where's your mom at?"

"I think today is...knitting club? No, wait, book club! That's it." Quinn nodded to herself as she sat down on her sofa.

Santana's brow furrowed as she finally allowed herself to enter the room, but she still stood awkwardly, as though she was unsure whether the moves she was making were allowed. "Since when has your mom done anything that doesn't involve a martini glass in her hand?"

"Since she split up with my father," Quinn spat quickly. "Now, if you don't mind, let's get down to work."

Slowly lowering herself onto a chair opposite of Quinn, Santana nervously wrung her hands because even though Quinn hadn't seemed mad earlier, she kept expecting her to do something to her. Not to mention that Quinn's house had always given her the creeps. It just seemed so...plastic. Empty. Cold. Although, now that Santana could really look around, she could see that it had changed since the last time she had been there. How long had it been? Nearly a year? Well, shit.

Deciding just to bite the bullet, Santana only hesitated a moment before speaking, "Q, can we just do what we normally do? You know, pretend shit didn't happen?"

Quinn pursed her lips before slowly nodding. "You do realize though that someday all this shit will creep up on us, and we'll have to deal with it then?"

"I know." Santana answered, leaving her eyes to bore holes into the carpet.

Although Quinn wanted to talk about some of the things that had gone on, she understood the want to pretend. It, after all, was the basis of their friendship. So with that in mind, Quinn criss crossed her legs and asked, "Ready to practice?"


	6. Chapter 6

AN: Hello again readers, I'm sorry it's been a while. School is taking up my entire life. Nothing from Season 3 is relevant for this fic, by the way, but in this chapter I did enjoy poking fun at Quinn's actions in Season 3. Anyway, enjoy and review. Thank you for those of you who have reviewed, subscribed, or added this story as a favorite; it easily makes my day. Oh, and Dios means God in Spanish.

Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any of the characters therein. Sad day for me.

One-Shot #6: Season 2, Episode 6 "Never Been Kissed"

Quinn pulled her coat tighter around her once she rang the doorbell. A few minutes later, she heard footsteps approach before the door opened. "Hey...Santana?" She asked in confusion. But, her eyes were not deceiving her. Santana was the one who opened the Pierce's front door.

"Britt's in the shower," Santana replied, answering the unasked question presented. She crossed her arms across her chest as if trying to ward off the inevitable conversation that would follow. "What's up?"

"I was going to borrow one of B's jackets for our number tomorrow. I asked her earlier if I could, and she said I could come over but..." Quinn trailed off, suddenly noticing that Santana looked like...well, crap. "I guess she forgot."

"Oh...I guess you can come in and...wait for her then?" Santana replied, looking uncertain even as she said it. "I would get it for you but I don't know which one she was planning on wearing."

Quinn nodded her head and, when Santana opened the door wider, walked quickly in to the warmth that evaded her outside. Once able to shake out the chill in her skin, she began to scrutinize Santana who had resumed (or at least, that's what Quinn was assuming based on the state of the living room) lounging on the couch. Even without speaking, Quinn could feel the tension in the room; she could almost see Santana building up invisible walls around herself.

Santana forced her face to remain passive when she felt the unmistakable shift in the couch that meant Quinn had joined her. Talking to Quinn wasn't very high on her agenda today; well, it wasn't high on her agenda any day- but especially not today.

Quinn found the silence unsettling, so even though small talk with Santana was it's own brand of painful, she decided to give it a shot. "So...how was your double with Puck?"

"Fine."

Frowning slightly, she continued, "How did Britt like going out with Artie?"

"It was fine."

"How are you today?" Quinn asked, finding this less animated version of her friend oddly unsettling.

"Fine."

God, Santana was stubborn. She wanted to say everything was fine? Well, alright then. "I think next year I'm going to dye my hair pink and get a tattoo."

"Fine." Suddenly a confused expression mixed with disgust crossed over the Latina's face. "Wait what?"

"S, what's going on with you?" Quinn demanded, suddenly grateful that she had gotten Santana to at least tune in to their conversation. "And for the love of all that is good on this Earth, do not say 'nothing' or that it's 'fine', because obviously something is going on with you."

Santana's face screwed up in anger, and she was about to retort when suddenly she was just...tired. She had been fighting everything for so fucking long, that she was just done fighting. "It was just a rough week, okay? Those happen sometimes. I really don't want to talk about it. So, for the love of God, Jesus, Mary, and even fucking Joseph, even though due to Mary's 'virginity' he's not even really related, can we please just watch the T.V.?" Well, she couldn't be TOTALLY nice, now could she? She felt a sick sense of satisfaction tinged with guilt when Quinn's face turned hard due to her religious reference. If Santana's mother could hear her now...well, even Dios could not help her.

"Well, you didn't exactly help yourself with that when you let Puck walk all over you. I mean, he treated you like crap. What happened to you being a badass?" Quinn spat. She had to admit, it hit a nerve when Puck asked Santana out. Plus, not only did he ask her out, but he was basically a douche while doing it. Ladies and gentlemen, the father of her daughter, a complete and total ass.

"Quinn. Drop it." Santana practically growled. Quinn opened her mouth to protest, but stopped when she saw Santana wince as she moved. _Oh._ Suddenly Quinn felt nothing but sadness and sympathy for her friend. Then, just as it always seemed to do, the room seemed to brighten as Brittany bounced into it in only a towel.

"Oh hey Quinny! I totally forgot you were coming over," she spoke, a large grin in place. "Let me just get dressed and then we can pick out your jacket, k?"

"Britt, I think I'm going to head out..." Santana said softly from her place on the couch. Quinn watched as the taller blonde's face immediately seemed to drop, a pout almost automatically going to her lips.

"San..."

"I'm going," Santana replied, getting up and forcing her face not to betray the instant pain in her body. Suddenly seeming more shy, Santana gave Brittany a soft smile. "I'll text you later, okay?"

"I guess...'Tana...just, be careful yeah?" Quinn felt a pang fill her heart at the tone of concern that laced Brittany's words; words she knew, she wasn't supposed to hear. They just seemed too...intimate almost.

"Always Britt-Britt. See ya, Q." With those parting words, Santana stuffed her hands into her hoody pocket and left through the front door. Suddenly left with a friend that was upset, Quinn decided to do what she did best: avoidance.

"Let's go look for a jacket for me to wear. I've never worn leather before." The smile that didn't reach Brittany's eyes spoke volumes about how little Quinn's attempt worked, but not as much as what she said next.

"Leather is supposed to be tough and protect you...do you think they make them for hearts?" Quinn never understood how anyone could ever call someone as wise as Brittany stupid.


	7. Chapter 7

AN: Hey guys, I'm sorry it took so long and it's a short chapter at that. I had such little inspiration for this chapter, considering the very little Quintana interaction. I also started another fic called Breathe Me which focuses on Brittany, but it's not connected to this story in any way. As always, enjoy and let me know what you think. I'll try to update quicker.

Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any of the characters therein. Sad day for me.

One- Shot #7: Season 2, Episode 7 "The Substitute"

"Hey," Quinn said, sliding into the chair next to Santana. Santana momentarily looked up from filing her nails in order to raise her eyebrow at the blonde next to her before returning to the task at hand. "What do you think of the sub?"

Santana shrugged, keeping her eyes glued on her nails, "She's pretty dope for a fake teacher."

Quinn chucked and shook her head before replying, "I'm pretty sure 'fake' is not quite the right word, although I'm sure Rachel would love it if that were true."

Rolling her eyes, Santana scoffed, "Yeah well, the midget needs to get treatment for whatever bit her in the nose. Miss Holliday is exactly what this club needs right now."

Although Quinn was pretty sure that a break from the mundane was a good way to shake things up in the club, she wasn't entirely sure that the blonde with the really bad spanish accent and stripper name was the solution to all of their problems. Yeah, she was fun, and she actually kind of reminded Quinn of Brittany a little bit (maybe that's why Santana liked her), but she was no Mr. Shuester as far as helping students went. She could only hope that Mr. Shue would get over whatever made him sick ASAP- preferably before any of the other kids got up to their usual hijinks. Before Quinn could voice as much to Santana, Brittany glided over to the seat on the opposite side of her.

"Hey Sanny! Hi Quinnie." Brittany spoke brightly, a large grin on her face. Santana smiled back immediately and knew without a doubt that Brittany was the only one who could get away with calling her and Quinn those names. "San, could we maybe talk about...something after glee?"

Santana felt her face freeze before she closed off her features. "Not today Britt."

"San..."

"I said NO Brittany." Santana hissed, trying to block out this conversation from the ever present ears of McKinley's biggest gossips- namely Lady Face Hummel and Wheezy.

Brittany frowned for a moment before standing up abruptly. "Fine. Later then. I forgot, I promised Artie I'd sit next to him today."

Santana watched Brittany walk away with a frown on her face. Quinn wondered for a moment if her existence had been forgotten about and decided to intervene. "What was that about?"

Facing forward, Santana's face assumed it's "bitch" position. "None of your damn business. I'm impressed though that you managed to hear anything over your screaming stretch marks over there, preggers."

"You know what, I think Brit had the right idea." Quinn remarked because damn it, she was fed up with the pregnancy comments. "Talk to me when you're not in bitch mode, okay?"

Santana watched Quinn walk away from the corner of her eyes and clenched her jaw tighter with each swish of that damn Cheerios skirt. She didn't even enjoy the view; she was that tense. "Not very likely there Q." Santana Lopez was not one to ask for help.

Even if she really needed it.

Instead, she pushed away those closest to seeing her weakness. Today, that meant Brittany was upset with her (and going to the fucking cripple to feel better) and Quinn was pissed at her.

"Are you okay sweet cheeks?"

Caught unaware, Santana was startled to find Miss Holiday looking down at her.

"Just peachy. Aren't we supposed to be doing music or something?"

The blonde smiled down at her and winked, "I thought you'd never ask!"

From her place next to Tina, Quinn sighed. Santana might as well have a barbed wire fence around her today.


End file.
